


The Role of the Senator

by weakinteraction



Category: Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Costume Kink, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-05 19:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6718345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a gruelling diplomatic reception, the members of the Naboo delegation need to unwind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Role of the Senator

**Author's Note:**

  * For [furchte_die_schildkrote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/furchte_die_schildkrote/gifts).



The great honour -- and expensive obligation -- of hosting of the formal reception the night before the formal opening of a new session of the Galactic Senate rotated through the member worlds of the Republic in an order defined by millennia-old diplomatic precedent that, while not governed by any formal treaty, nor administered by any subcommittee of a subcommittee of the general assembly, all involved knew was best left unquestioned.

It took centuries to work through the list, such that only the very longest-lived senators were particularly likely to be hosts themselves, let alone do so twice. Tonight, however, was the third time that Senator Hahrc of the Zeliki delegation had played host. And Hahrc's receptions had become embedded in the cultural memories of worlds across the galaxy, to the furthest extent that the Republic was known, let alone held sway, as a byword for the most excruciatingly dull parties imaginable.

The Zeliki's officious and pedantic nature had made them invaluable maintainers of the Republic's bureaucracy ever since their world's accession, nearly ten thousand years ago, but it made their parties stultifying beyond belief. Their tradtion -- or perhaps just Hahrc's personal whim, if there was even a difference between those two things -- demanded that every senator spend precisely one-hundred-and-seventy-three seconds speaking to a prepared list of other senators, in the precise order prescribed, such that by the end of the party a perfectly symmetric graph could be constructed of who had conversed with whom, which could be traversed from any given senator to all other senators in a maximum of three steps. With the current size of the Galactic Republic, this required several dozen conversations, such that the party was guaranteed to last for a minimum of three and a half hours.

And so no one could be surprised -- indeed, many were probably intensely relieved -- when Senator Amidala of Naboo, having completed her final greeting of the evening, immediately called for her personal transport and summoned the handmaiden accompanying her from where she had been gossiping with the other assistants, functionaries and junior delegates, who, freed from the requirements of Hahrc's party planning, had been having a much less tedious time of things.

At least, Padmé thought as she allowed herself a small smirk beneath her handmaiden's hood, that's what everyone _thought_ they'd just seen.

* * *

As soon as the shuttlecraft was under way, its perfect mirror finish shielding the interior from any who might observe what transpired within, Dormé's features slumped, the first time she had allowed any sort of expression onto her face since she had donned the formal senatorial gowns that afternoon. Padmé couldn't help but smile at her, in a mixture of commiseration at what she had gone through and pride at how well she had borne it. Dormé, for her part, glared back, saying, "I knew it would be bad, but I had no idea it would be _that_ bad."

"You did brilliantly," Padmé said.

"I made the same tedious small talk with everyone, if that's what you mean," Dormé said.

"Which was exactly what the situation demanded."

"While you got to talk to everyone else," Dormé said, a hint of accusation in her tone, "like something resembling a normal person."

"Something resembling one, yes," Padmé said. "Though I'm not sure anyone who works in galactic politics can really be described as 'normal'. But they were a lot more forthcoming with a mere handmaiden than they ever would have been with Senator Amidala, Regina Emerita of Naboo." Amongst a lot of pointless intrigue and fascinating if irrelevant gossip, Padmé had managed to glean some very useful, albeit unfavourable, intelligence about who had the strongest support for the recently vacated post of chair of the Senate's Internal Investigations Committee. She would have to find time to speak to Senator Organa soon about how they could ensure that their preferred candidate might win out.

Dormé arched an eyebrow. "A _mere_ handmaiden?"

"I speak only of their perceptions," Padmé said smoothly, and perhaps a little too quickly. "You and I both know the reality."

"Indeed," Dormé said, a smile playing about her lips and a light beginning to shine in her eyes. "You and I know the reality. But no one else at the reception was aware of who they were really talking to."

"No," Padmé said. "As I said, you performed your part wonderfully well."

"You miss my meaning," Dormé said. She had adopted the full regal tone now, the one which Padmé knew Dormé had been trained to use in childhood just as much as she herself had, in the same way and for the same reason -- to enable them to pass as one another -- that Padmé had received the same level of hand-to-hand combat and blaster training as her handmaidens. "If I had commanded you to perform some handmaidenly task," Dormé went on, "however menial, you would have had to do so."

"But we are alone now," Padmé said. Superficially it might have sounded like a challenge, but she stared directly into Dormé's eyes with a look that she intended to communicate her willingness to go along with whatever Dormé had in mind, now that they were indeed alone.

"And yet I still find myself burdened by these heavy robes of office," Dormé said, the light in her eyes brightening in a way that suggested that Padmé's look had been more than successful in communicating what she had wanted to communicate.

"I am of course a mere handmaiden," Padmé said, executing a flawless formal curtsey even as her stomach was filling with butterflies at what might be about to happen. She stayed bowed low and looked up at Dorm&ecaute. " _Your_ mere handmaiden. Command me as you will."

"Undress me," Dormé said imperiously.

Padmé rose to her feet and stood behind Dormé. She fumbled for a moment with the collar, before removing it smoothly. She gently put a hand on Dormé's right arm and guided it up from her side to a horizontal position so that she could pull the sleeve of the robe away, then circled round her back to do the same on the other side, placing the heavy garment carefully to one side after doing so. Then she came round to stand in front of Dormé, reaching behind her to unclasp her necklace. She let her hands linger on Dormé's neck for just a moment before she removed it, a mischievous reminder of some of the other games they had played. She was gratified by the way Dormé's eyes went wide for a moment.

"How long until we reach the apartments?" Dormé asked once she recovered her composure.

"A few minutes," Padmé guessed.

"Reprogram the autopilot," Dormé said languidly. "Let's take the scenic route."

Padmé grinned. "Yes, ma'am." She stepped over to the console and added a few waypoints to their journey significantly off the route the autopilot had chosen for itself. The shuttle began to bank even as she walked back to Dormé, beginning to loosen the stays and fastenings of her gown. Padmé gently teased apart the two sides of the gown, running her fingers underneath it across Dormé's shoulder blades.

Dormé moaned appreciatively. "You can massage me later, handmaiden," she said after letting Padmé continue for some time. "I believe I instructed you to undress me."

"My apologies, ma'am," Padmé said. She tugged the sleeves of the gown down Dormé's arms, until there was enough slack for her to be able to push it down her body completely. She took her time doing so, staying just the right side of where she imagined Dormé would reprimand her for failing to continue undressing her. Eventually, Dormé was stood in the middle of what seemed like a yellow pool of crushed velvet, wearing only her embroidered corset and hosiery.

Dormé took a single step over the discarded dress. Padmé began to gather it up.

"No," Dormé said. "Come here."

"But, ma'am," Padmé said cheekily, even as she came to stand directly in front of her, "you instructed your mere handmaiden to undress you."

"Well," Dormé said, "now I am instructing you to kiss me."

Padmé pushed down her veil before leaning in towards her, and they kissed deeply. After a while, Dormé used her tongue to prise Padmé's lips open wider, asserting her dominance. Padmé groaned into her lips, and Dormé stopped, resting just the tip of her tongue between Padmé's lips. Padmé took the hint, flicking her tongue around it in imitation of what she desperately hoped she would shortly be ordered to do.

Eventually, Dormé broke the kiss. "Kneel down," she ordered, exactly as Padmé had hoped she would.

Padmé sunk to her knees immediately, suddenly hyper-conscious of her own arousal as she was confronted by the obviousness of Dormé's.

"Carry on undressing me, handmaiden."

Padmé started unfastening the stockings from the loops on the bottom of the corset, fumbling slightly in her excitement. One pinged against Dormé's thigh and she immediately leaned in to kiss it in recompense. She felt herself growing even wetter with the contact between her lips and the softness of Dormé's skin. As she continued, she felt as though she was bound to lose control and wrestle Dormé to the ground before grinding wildly against her, but -- with a lot of deep, heavy breaths -- she maintained her composure and continued. As Padmé rolled the stockings down her leg, Dormé lifted each foot in turn just enough for Padmé to be able to pull them off.

Then Padmé returned her attention to Dormé's pussy, now separated from her only by the thin material of her panties. Padmé was captivated by the scent and the heat of her, but again controlled herself, carefully putting her fingers into the hemline at Dormé's hips and pulling them downwards. Once again, Dormé stepped delicately out of them, still putting on a performance of regal grace and elegance even though it was abundantly clear she was just as excited as Padmé. Something about the way she was still wearing the corset made the whole thing even more enticing.

There was just the faintest hint of that excitement in the thickness of Dormé's voice as she said, "Carry on kissing me, handmaiden." Padmé had almost wished that Dormé would order her to strip herself, but of course her being dressed as a handmaiden was part of the point.

Padmé only had to lean forward slightly to make contact with Dormé's pussy. She began to lick around her clit in small circles, just as she had the tip of Dormé's tongue a moment earlier. She placed her hands on Dormé's hips and leaned in further, moving down from Dormé's clit to slide her tongue up and down her pussy lips. Dormé gasped and put her hands in Padmé's hair, practically forcing her tongue into her slit.

"Don't stop," she said. Her voice was no longer a deliberate imitation of Padmé's own most imperious tones, but the simple pleading of one lover to another. Padmé happily obliged, revelling in the power she had over Dormé even as Dormé exerted power over her. She thrust her tongue deeper into Dormé's pussy, sliding her right hand over slightly from Dormé's thigh so that her thumb could rub her clit.

Soon her efforts were rewarded by the sound of Dormé's groaning, the feeling of her hips bucking into her face, her fingers tangling in her hair, and most of all the sweetness running over her tongue.

A moment later, Dormé released her, staggering backwards into one of the shuttle's seats. Padmé followed, crawling with a devilish smile on her face. "So, am I forgiven for my unfortunate choice of words?"

"You did make being a 'mere handmaiden' seem rather enjoyable," Dormé said once she had recovered enough to speak.

"Oh, it was," Padmé said. "Very much so." She cast her eyes down demurely, still playing the role.

"You don't have to kneel down there," Dormé said in her usual voice. "Come and sit next to me." Padmé did so, wrapping her arms around her lover and snuggling up. Just as she did, the shuttle broke across Coruscant's terminator, the twilight around them turning into what for those in the towers around them was a sunset but to them seemed a sunrise. Glowing orange reflections from a thousand windows sparkled in their sight.

"Beautiful," Dormé said. "Did you program the route specially?"

"If I say 'yes', you will think that I was insufficiently excited by what we were doing to do anything other than enter a few waypoints at random." The shuttle banked again, heading back into the night side on a slow arc to their final destination.

"Can I not have the honour of my homeworld being represented in the Galactic Senate by someone so admirably talented that she could contrive this despite such distraction?"

Padmé smiled and leaned into Dormé's embrace. She felt the most relaxed she had in some time, even as her arousal coursed through her body, unfulfilled.

Dormé leaned in too, and bent down to whisper in her ear. "Can I be your mere handmaiden later?"

Padmé glanced across at the piles of clothes she had just removed from Dormé. "Well, I suppose _one_ of us ought to put the senator's clothes on before we return. It may as well be me."

Dormé grinned. "You _will_ have to take this corset off me first."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," Padmé said.

The shuttle sped onwards into the growing darkness.


End file.
